Dark-Hunters didn't date and they damn sure didn't have girlfriends. Well, no one except Kell, but he was weird anyway and Kell's girlfriend was a constant source of irritation for Acheron.
Not that Talon minded being an irritation to Acheron. It was actually enjoyable to nettle the Atlantean, but he couldn't screw up Sunshine's life that way.
Dark-Hunters didn't date and most especially not this one. He'd already learned his lesson and he'd learned it hard.
Unlike the others, he was cursed by his own gods. It was why he refused to have a Squire. Why he refused to haveanyone near him.
"For what you have taken from me, Speirr of the Morrigántes, you will never again know the peace or happiness of a loved one. I curse you to walk eternity alone. Curse you to lose everyone you care for.
"One by one, they will suffer and die, and you will be powerless to stop it. Your agony will be knowing they are doomed because of your actions and wondering when, where, and how I will strike them down.
I will claim them all and live only to watch you suffer."
Even after all these centuries the angry god's words rang in his ears.
Talon groaned at the pain of the memory of his wife dying in his arms. "I'm afraid to die, Speirr…
"
It had been all his fault.
Every death.
Every tragedy.
How could so many lives have been shattered by one stupid mistake? He had let his emotions lead him and, in the end, he had destroyed not only his own life but those of the ones he loved.
He winced at the truth of it.
Agony seared him so deeply that he cursed aloud from the force of it.
"You were born cursed," Gara's gnarled old voice whispered in his head. "Born bastard to a union
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) that should never have been. Now get out and take the babe with you before the wrath of the gods falls to my head."
At age seven, he had stared in helpless disbelief at the old crone his mother had worked for. When his mother and Tress had taken sick, Gara had allowed him to do his mother's tasks.
After his mother's death, the old woman had turned on him.
"But Ceara will die if I leave. I don't know how to care for an infant.
"
"We all die, boy. It's no concern of mine what becomes of the child of a whore. Now get out and remember how quickly our fates change. Your mother was a queen. The most beloved of the Morrigántes. Now she is a dead peasant, like the rest of us. Not even worth the dirt that covers her."
The cruel words had torn through his child's heart. His mother had never been a whore. Her only mistake had been to love his father.
Feara of the Morrigántes had been worth all the treasures of the earth to him. Her value was beyond measure…
"Push it away," he said, taking deep breaths to calm himself.
Acheron was right, he had to keep his emotions buried. They were what had led him astray to begin with. The only way he could function was to not remember. Not feel.
And yet he couldn't help feeling. He couldn't seem to repress the memories that he had buried fifteen hundred years ago…
"So the son of the whore has returned to beg you, my king, for his shelter. Tell me, King Idiag, should I cut off his head, or just slit his nostrils and then turn this pitiful wretch out into the storm to die like the worthless dung he is?"
Talon could still hear the laughter of his mother's people. Feel the fear in his young heart that his uncle, like everyone else, would forsake him and Ceara. He had clutched his sister close to his chest while she squalled, wanting the food and warmth he had been unable to provide her.
Barely two months in age, Ceara had refused to suckle the bladder he had tried to feed her with.
For three days as they traveled without stopping, she'd done nothing but scream and cry.
No matter what he tried, Ceara would not be placated.
Idiag had stared at him for so long that he was sure his uncle would send them to their deaths. The fire in the hall had crackled while the people held their collective breath, waiting for their king to pronounce judgment.
Talon had hated his mother then. Hated her for making him beg for his sister's life. Making him suffer like
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) this when he was just an untried lad who wanted only to run away and hide from his humiliation.
Hide from the screaming baby who never took pity on him.
But he had made a promise and he never broke his word. Without his uncle's help, another sister would die.
When Idiag finally spoke, his eyes were blank. Unfeeling. "No, Parth," he'd said to his guard. "He has suffered much to travail the winter's harshness to reach us, especially with nothing more than rags on his feet. We will give them shelter. Summon a wet nurse for the babe."
Talon had wanted to collapse in relief.
"And the boy?"